


Turning Tables

by leister



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leister/pseuds/leister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Well, first of all, I want to apologize in advance for any grammatical mistakes or anything, I'm not a native speaker, you see. Secondly, this amazing prompt was given to me by my dearest friend Carla, who also loves this fandom. If anyone has any suggestions regarding the storyline I'm open to it!

**1.**

Charles had always been curious. Not that ‘always’ denoted an extremely extended period of time, after all, he was only nineteen. But still. He had always been that kind of person who simply ached for more knowledge, for more understanding, for some sense of control. He wasn’t a fool, though. He had known from a very early age that it was almost impossible for him to achieve that order. The world itself was pure chaos, and to a certain extent, Charles decided that he liked it better that way. It was mainly because of that (or maybe not because of that at all) that he had taken the decision that led him here.

One morning after having packed some of his clothes in a suitcase that was far too expensive for his likeness, he announced to his parents that he had applied to a French College and that he was to leave the next day, early in the morning. His parents seemed surprised but accepted. _Of course they accepted,_ Charles thought, _they don’t really care if I’m in Europe or in China, exactly_. It was mostly true. His mother didn’t cry and his father didn’t hug him. They made someone else drive him to the airport and said goodbye as if he was to return 5 minutes later. It was for the best. It hadn’t been easy, but he had finally decided. It was too late to go back.

Europe was a familiar place for him. He had travelled far too much with his parents, but now it was completely different. Now, he likes to think, it is indeed completely different. Europe is not Europe but rather the place he chose without much thinking. Europe will bring him catharsis.

For the first time ever, he’s on his own. It’s true that it doesn’t sound a hundred percent accurate. His parents, more specifically his father, keep on supporting him, sending large amounts of money every once in a while. Besides that, Charles isn’t on vacations or anything of that sort, either. He has come to Paris to study. Luckily enough he will earn a degree on genetics from a decent university. But let’s be honest, Charles sighs at his thoughts. He isn’t here because he was dying to study genetic in France, or because he wanted to practice his bad pronunciation. He’s here because this was the only thing that came into his mind, his one and only way out from the person he was not.

Back in England his family continued living as usual. He was an only child, product of a loveless marriage and a careless mother.  They had an obscenely decent position in society, that meaning not only that they were respected (and possibly feared) but also that they were awfully rich. His father was the owner of a big old company that had nothing to do with Charles’ interests, but to be honest; he didn’t even know what the company was all about. He couldn’t be ungrateful, though. It was because of it that he was able to get the money he got every month. But still, he didn’t want to become a business man or get to run the company himself. That was far beyond his tolerance and besides; he’d rather spend time reading about genetics and learning biology.

He knew that, once again, everything about him had to do with his conception of order and chaos, but how on earth could it not be about it? How could he ignore it, when he was so aware that he walked through chaos bringing with him his own subjective order that only seemed to bring more and more disaster?

People tended to see him as this little good boy, this naturally good-hearted person incapable of hurting anyone. _How wrong they were_ , Charles thought, his lips curving into a brief, little and, sad smile. _How wrong…_ he repeated mentally. If he wanted to be honest with himself that was probably the real reason why he had decided to leave everything behind. _‘So that I won’t hurt anyone’_. He repeated this over and over again, as a mantra. He repeated it mostly to convince himself that this was for the best, but also, because it helped to ease the guilt. In the end, it was true. He didn’t wish to hurt anyone, especially not his parents whom, despite everything, Charles loved dearly. He couldn’t blame them, anyway. They’ve been focused on themselves for far too long and, really, what sort of good could came out of them realizing that his son was not only a genetics obsessed young man, but also a gay genetics obsessed young man? Not to mention that they weren’t open minded at all and that they would probably either blame one another or make him go through different ‘treatments’ and therapy to ‘cure’ him. Charles’ expression changed as he thought what seemed to be his death sentence.

  _‘But… there’s no cure’_ he whispered quietly into the air.

 At that point, it never occurred to him that that wasn’t any death sentence whatsoever, but his once chance in life to have a new, fresh start.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the title of this WIP was inspired by Adele's 'Turning Tables' :) Hope you like it.

**2.**

 _‘There’s no cure’_.

Despite Charles’ attempts to block those memories, his brain seemed to find amusing how painful that simple phrase was. It wasn’t painful in itself, though. He had accepted himself long ago. What made him uneasy was the fact that he couldn’t tell his parents about this, at least, not without them freaking out.

Charles was almost marveled at the human brain capacity of self-harm, but just before he had the chance to get really lost into his thoughts, he realized he was in front of the university’s entrance hall. It looked the way almost all universities looked. Charles had chosen a random one, hoping that it wouldn’t be a disaster. _Well_ , Charles thought, _it wasn’t_. The university didn’t look particularly posh or anything but it was good enough. He decided he should definitely go inside to complete his registration process. It wasn’t a good moment to be lost in thought, at least not with the amount of people there. Anyone could mistake him for a fluent native French speaker, ‘ _Well, maybe not native, but fluent nonetheless_ ,’ he thought to himself, beginning to realize that he hadn’t even stopped to consider the fact that he hadn’t spoken French in almost ten years. ‘ _Very well, then_ ’ he said to himself, ‘ _It’s never too late to start again_ ’ and he wished, he really wished, that everything was as easy as that.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in need of a beta (mostly because I'm not an English native speaker), if anyone would like to be my beta, please send me an email at leister.uk(at)gmail.com.

**3.**

Charles had never been too confident. The girl on the main counter smiled at him with an innocent movement of her eyelashes and he pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed. He should know how to handle things with girls by now. He had gone out with a couple of them a few times. Still, Charles knew that this didn’t really make any difference, since it wasn’t and it was never going to be a real date experience for him. He approached her and managed to establish a conversation.

She had long red hair, ‘beautiful hair, indeed’ Charles though, suddenly aware of the fact that he could contemplate beauty on women, that was true, but he didn’t feel the attraction he felt for other people. Men. Yes, men. He should start thinking about this more often, after all, he had come this far to let himself be who he was. The red-haired girl gave him a flirting look, and Charles could see a badge on her blouse with her name on it. _Julia_. Julia kept looking at him in that particular way and Charles wondered, he truly did, what was it that captivated her attention so much. He considered himself a rather plain boy, or so he had been keen to believe almost all his life. He sighed and approached her, managing to introduce himself politely, trying to remember the words as accurately as possible. Julia just giggled.

He is suddenly temped, oh so temped, to ask her what is it that is so funny. He is not like this, at least not usually. He is patient and kind and understanding, but he’s not going to lie, today he feels frustrated; and frustration is something he has difficulty dealing with. For God’s sake, he just wanted to get enrolled in this goddamn university; there was no need for all that thing. It was already difficult enough for him due to his lack of fluency with French. His suddenly tangible exasperation didn’t reach Julia at all. Next to her there was another woman. She wasn’t particularly old, but she seemed mature. In fact, she wasn’t much older than Charles. Her hair was blond and his eyes were sincere, and when Charles stared at her silently pleading for help, she immediately intervened.

‘Hi, can I help you?’ She said suddenly aware of him ‘I can see it would be easier for you to carry out this whole process in English, yes?’ she offered, giving a cold look to Julia.

‘Yes, please’ Charles smiled with relief ‘I really didn’t think it would be so hard for me to speak French again.’ He waved a hand to Julia, who frowned at him.

‘The girl over there doesn’t speak English, does she?’ Charles asked, avoiding saying ‘Julia’ in case she could hear him.

‘No, she doesn’t. So feel free to speak up your mind.’ she said with a smile

‘Oh… no, I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to…’ Charles tried to gesture with his hand to get his message across. He couldn’t believe that even in English he was unable to express himself accurately.

‘I know, I know, there’s no need to be embarrassed,’ She laughed, ‘just pointing an obvious fact. Besides, she keeps doing the same thing with every exchange student.’

Charles felt startled to say the least. He knew he didn’t sound exactly native, but he had hoped to at least look like one. The expression on his face might have given him away because the girl grinned at him and said ‘Don’t worry, you look French enough.’

He almost asked her if she was able to read minds, but was distracted by his intense blushing. He could painfully feel how powerful the heat on his face was. The truth was that, in fact, Charles had spent a great deal of time researching on internet and different places the way French people dressed. He was a nerd, he wasn’t ashamed of that. Because of this, he had expected his wardrobe to be impeccable.

‘I really meant that,’ she said. Charles must have been lost in thought for more time than it was reasonable to. ‘You do look French with all those clothes, the thing is, your pronunciation is terrible, no offense.’

He felt stupid. Of course it was the pronunciation, what else could have been?

‘I’m Raven, by the way,’ she said and then added ‘I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but if it makes you feel better, my French is terrible too.’

Raven. ‘What a curious and different name’ Charles thought, yet it had personality, it was strong. Raven. He would surely remember her name.

‘I’m Charles, it’s nice to meet you,’ he said smiling. ‘So, Raven… what do I have to do to get enrolled?’ And just like that not only had Charles begun the process, but also made a friend, or at least what he hoped was a friend.

After a while, and with Raven’s help, Charles was able to choose all his courses. He hadn’t had anything in mind, so he ended up enrolling himself in every genetics course he saw. When he was done he smiled warmly at her and said goodbye.  ‘At least there will be someone familiar when I come here every day,’ Charles though. It made him feel warm, and less lonely, even if Raven was more or less a stranger; he had a good feeling about her.

He walked out of the hall, trying to decipher the large amount of books he was going to be reading that term, just to realize that he had to buy almost all of them. ‘Not that I mind spending my money on books’ Charles talked to himself ‘but it would be _rather_ nice if I knew where to find a library.’

He looked around, walking at a slower pace. He thought about his options. As much as he had liked Raven, he didn’t really feel like going back to the hall. Then again, his chances of magically stumbling upon a library that had all the books he needed to read were very unlikely.

He unfolded the map he had on his pocket and stared at it for some time. There seemed to be a random library at a not-so-decent distance from where he was standing, but he really didn’t have any plans for that day, or any other day. He estimated that it would take him around 40 minutes to get there walking.

He considered again going back to Raven, but the image of Julia, the red-haired girl, made him uneasy. Besides, he didn’t know anything about Raven, and he couldn’t tell if she would think he was trying to flirt with her, ‘even if it is virtually impossible,’ Charles thought. He finally made up his mind and started walking. There was a light breeze, nothing he couldn’t manage. He took the same path he had memorized from the map and tried to convince himself that there wasn’t any chance he was going to get lost (or at least, _really totally fucked up_ lost).


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is chapter 4. I still don't have a beta, I mean, I have talked to a girl who seemed really cool :) but she's got to see how her schedule is going and everything. So, if you find anything strange, it is because I'm still writing on my own. I couldn't resist the urge to post it :)

**4.**

When he finally found a library, it was all he’d expected a library in Paris would look like. The door was old and worn out, yet it looked beautiful. Through the glass it was possible to see tons of books carefully ordered. Charles noted that the books were arranged in a particular way. They were ordered not only by subject, but it also seemed as if every pile of books was a piece of art on itself. Every book not only matched its neighbor by its size, but also by its color.

 Charles walked in. He was a little bit surprised to notice that it was empty. He hadn’t expected it to be crowded with people either, but to be honest; he was more or less disappointed that there wasn’t a single soul in there. Still, he didn’t let that get to him. It was incredibly silly to get upset just because he was all alone and couldn’t even talk properly. He had always known what he had chosen; it simply wasn’t a good moment to start thinking about how much he disliked all this. He could hear some whispers coming from the back of the shop, but other than that, he was on his own.

He rummaged through the titles feeling lost and confused. The whispers had now become a little louder, but he still couldn’t make much of it. He wandered through the library, touching the books, reading some of them, trying to remember words in French. He even attempted to read one of them out loud, but was suddenly interrupted by the realization that everything had grown suddenly quiet. The whispers had stopped. He stood with this back pressed against one of the shelves and remained still. He knew it was such a silly thing to do. There was no need to remain like that, after all, he had to buy the books and he wasn’t even close to understanding the way in which they were arranged. The conversation started once again. Now it was louder and it also seemed less careful, as if the people who were carrying the conversation had suddenly changed the topic of their conversation.

He came closer to the counter just to see an open door behind it. The door led to a little room and Charles observed that there seemed to be two people standing in front of each other, talking. There wasn’t any sort of bell or something with which he could make the other two realize there was someone else in there. At this point he felt desperate. His French was far from polite, as he had already confirmed, and going through the door was more than he could bear. He concentrated on the conversation, instead. He suddenly realized that he didn’t have much difficulties understanding the conversation. There were two men talking, of that he was sure. The topic of their conversation was a little more difficult to grasp. Something about someone named ‘Hank’ and something about books, which, Charles thought, was kind of obvious. There was a sudden shift of topic on their conversation and he suddenly comprehended that what the two men were discussing about was genetics. This was his opportunity; he needed the help after all. He remained behind the counter but placed himself strategically and coughed loudly. The two men stopped talking and one of them, an old man, came through the door. Charles blushed, it was so evident that his cough was fake. Still, he looked at the man.

 ‘I was looking for these books’ Charles managed to say, sounding less foreign and more confident than before, passing his list to the man. He was a rather old man, Charles thought. Maybe on his early sixties, with a bunch of white hair on his head. He looked kind. The old man looked at him confused, but then just smiled. Charles had considered repeating his request but the old man had already started walking. Torn between following the old man or remaining behind the counter, he wasn’t able to make his decision on time, and so, in the end, he stayed where he was. Another man walked out of the door. He was young, more or less Charles’ age and had brown hair. Charles looked at him with the hope of practicing his French, and made a gesture to try to introduce himself. The stranger didn’t appear to notice, lost in thought as he was. Instead, he shifted his weight to his right leg and tried to rearrange the pile of books he was carrying on his hands. Charles walked a little bit, moving his feet carefully, pacing around. The stranger looked at him but rapidly shifted his attention to his books. He picked the first one and opened.

To say that Charles was surprised to notices that most of the books the stranger was holding were the same he was looking for was an understatement. He felt a sudden and silly rush of relief which made him ask an equally silly question.

 ‘Are you studying genetics?’ Charles asked. He regretted his question the moment the words left his lips. It was a stupid question, and he could tell by the amused look in the young man’s eyes that he thought the same.

‘I mean,’ Charles breathed ‘because I will be studying genetics too, this term’ he added.

The man didn’t pay attention to him. Instead, he tried to concentrate on his book again. A long moment passed and Charles gave up on the stranger, shifting his attention to the glass through which he could see the street. He was lost in thought when the young man spoke again and the sound of his voice almost made him fall.

 ‘You’re not from here, are you’ The young man said.

 ‘No, I’m from England.’ He was able to answer after a few seconds. He knew the stranger didn’t mean it as a question, but he added the information anyway, hoping to make conversation.

‘Whatever brought you here, huh?’ said the man, now talking in perfect English.

‘Charles’ Charles added, just because he felt that that was what he had to say.

The old man returned with Charles’ books and started wrapping them. Charles paid them and tried to ask another question ‘Is English your first language?’ Silly question again, he thought. Still, he added ‘You sound native.’

The stranger just smiled at him while renewing his discussion with the old man. Charles grabbed his bag, said thank you and headed for the door. He was almost out of the library when he heard the stranger’s voice again. ‘Erik. That’s my name. I’ll be your classmate this term. And no, English is not my first language but I happen to be very good with languages, _Charles_.’

His name on the tip of his tongue. It sounded weird, it always sounded weird when someone he didn’t know too well said his name.

Charles turned around to look at him once more, but Erik and the old man were already on their way to the back of the shop, speaking a fluent French Charles felt jealous of.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Erik isn't too OOC :( Anyway, thanks for reading! :)

**5.**

Erik didn’t comment much on his reaction and the old man tried not to smile too broadly. He had known Erik for a couple of years now, but Erik being so young a couple of years meant almost forever. All the old man knew about him was that he was on his own in Paris, studying genetics for some reason he couldn’t really decipher. For one part, he could see how interested Erik was on the topic, and besides the boy was truly intelligent, that was quite clear. But at the same time there was something else deep down in him, something more obscure and entangled than mere passion for knowledge. Still, he tried not to get too carried away. He felt happy for Erik. It didn’t matter if it was mainly because he had just spoken to a complete stranger. Erik had reached out, and that was the important thing. It was good enough for him. The boy spent too much time on his own, and he should be a boy still, partying and having fun.  Instead, Erik spent his days studying genetics and reading large amounts of books. He wasn’t talkative, either. At least not regarding normal topics such as daily life or how he viewed the world. It was as if Erik was determined to let others know as little about him as possible.

The man suspected that pain and suffering had shaped Erik into unimaginable ways, just the way fire shapes metal. He didn’t know much about him now that he came to think about it. At least he could be proud to say that he knew him the most. It seemed that he had gotten too carried away in his daydreaming, because now Erik was looking at him, questioning him with a raised eyebrow.

‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said after that boy left, have you?’ He said, not a question really, just a statement of a pretty evident fact. He wasn’t always this demanding. There was something strange about it.

‘I just got lost in thought’ he replied. It was better not to say much about it, he knew Erik wouldn’t like it and would feel ashamed for some strange reason.

‘Hmm’ Erik murmured. Then, finally, he added with a genuine spark of curiosity on his eyes, ‘I wonder why anyone would come such a long way just to study genetics…’ his gaze drifting from the books to the window in slow motion.

The man smiled at Erik and answered him trying to be casual but still shooting Erik a meaningful look ‘I usually wonder the same myself.’

Erik just smiled, unapologetically. He knew the man wasn’t really pressing him into revealing more information about himself. It was just a reminder that he, as well as Charles, had come an insanely long way just to study genetics. Or at least that was his excuse. He wondered what Charles’ excuse would be, before immersing himself into his book again.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Charles and Erik meet each other in France, when they are nineteen. Charles has decided that relocating in France might help him to get to terms with who he is, but what would happen if he is able to find more than a little peace of mind? WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is like a mini fill :) Thanks for reading it, and I hope you enjoy it!

**6.**

Charles didn’t think about Erik that much. Well… define ‘that much’. To be honest it was weird. That was his most remarkable conclusion so far. He had spent the past couple of hours just thinking about the whole incident in the library. Would it sound weird if he admitted that he’d been only half surprised that Erik had talked to him in the end? It had nothing to do with Erik, of course. It was something that had to do with him, with Charles, with who he was.

He had always believed himself to have a kind of special gift when it came down to interpersonal relationships, though he had never been able to label it, or to give it a name, at least. He believed in genetics and science, not in superpowers. Still, he had always had the feeling that he was either continually inferring what other people had in their heads or he simply had a bigger capacity to sympathize. It was odd, but he was usually capable of telling what people felt or thought without even having to really think about it much. He was capable of telling so much about Erik, yet he had met him for barely five minutes.

‘It was enough, though’ Charles thought. Everything about Erik was written all over him. The way he looked at people, the way his hands held his books meticulously in place, the way in which he shifted his weight from one leg to the other… The way in which he pretended not to care… because, it was so shamefully obvious. Erik did care. Erik did care about almost everything; it was just that… he didn’t want to care at all.

Charles rolled on his bed. Restless, unable to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day, his first day on campus. He revised his schedule mentally. He had _Genetics 1_ at 10 am in the second floor, and then he had a break. Afterwards he had some biology course. He hadn’t wanted to take it, but Raven had told him that as an exchange student, he had to take almost all the basic courses. It was such a pain in the ass. Charles rearranged his pillow and decided to force himself to sleep.

It was pointless. All his brain wanted to think about was this mysterious boy. How strange he was…  what is it that is so strange and peculiar about him? He’s definitely hiding something, there was something about it on his body language… Charles yawned again.

Erik had seemed such a different person. He couldn’t really tell how he knew. There was something on his eyes that felt cold and icy and looked a lot like pain and rage and… something else entirely. He couldn’t quite make up Erik’s character and that made him feel out of place. He’d never had problems placing people. Everyone had a specific place in the universe according to Charles’ theory. It was like an invisible address, a special place for everyone. And it went even beyond that. Charles believed that that place was conditioned by experiences and everything that made people up.

He stood up, frustrated. At least, if he couldn’t sleep he might use his time on something useful. He grabbed one of his new books and read through the prologue. It was a heavy book. It was green on the outside and the pages were soft. It was a joy to touch and read a book like that. But his comfort didn’t last much.

‘Crap’ Charles said out loud. He knew by heart everything in that book.  It was impossible. He closed the book and read the title. God. He had read that years ago! He knew that the whole studying-abroad thing was an excuse, but… seriously? To spend a complete term learning things he had learnt long ago? This was not nice. He sighed and decided to concentrate on something else, something that made him sleepy.

Nothing came into his mind. Just… chocolate. Hot chocolate. But it wasn’t useful either. Maybe if he spent some minutes contemplating everything in the room he would get bored, and sleepy, hopefully.

He sat down on the chair that was near his bed and looked around his new room. It was just a room, a cheap and rather little room. He could’ve rented something else, more luxurious, bigger and more expensive.

Of course, there was not point in doing such a thing. He wanted to look like a normal kid. Not the rich kid that came from England just because he could afford it. It was good to remember he’d come here not only to run away from the man he didn’t want to be, but also to start building what he wanted his future to look like. It was good, because he had to stop complaining. He had to stop complaining about everything at all.


End file.
